FEARFUL
by Gasoline Baby
Summary: SUPERNATURAL- 2.10- ALT OC STORY PART II- Jamia definitely didn't go to California. Our hunter in the making comes across an esteemed vampire killer and one hunt with him goes pear shaped. She finds she now carries an unwanted burden and meets the Winchesters a second time. This time, not everyone gets saved.
1. Chapter 1

My first week and a half of being on my own was uneventful. I really just jumped states, drank to get drunk at bars every night and slept in the car. I got free drinks when I wanted, and stole money for gas when I wanted too. During the parts of the day I was awake and not traveling, I went to libraries and researched demons, tried to find something on demonic viruses and I found information on other things that go bump in the night. I wasn't miserable, but I wasn't sober. One night, sitting at a bar in Minnesota a black guy sat down one stool over from me. I turned to face him, putting on my shy girl face in the hopes he would buy me a beer.

"Hey."

"Don't give me that hey crap." He said, mimicking my tone. I raised my eyebrows at him. He looked to be in his 30's. His head was shaved short and he had a goatee that didn't look all that awful. He wore a plaid shirt with a dusty brown jacket and old jeans. Even wearing the layers he was, I could tell he had the muscles to bring down a horse. He might have been a woodsman, or crappy cop or something. He only chuckled and motioned to the middle aged bartender for a beer for himself. He seemed like the gravely, blood spilling for fun kind of guy. I wanted to figure out who he was, even if just a grumpy drunk.

"Well what _do_ you want me to give you?" I asked, dropping the act to be more serious even though what I said could be taken in more ways than one, and I took a long sip of my beer. The guy chuckled again as he received his own drink.

"Many things, sweet heart. Many things." I mentally rolled my eyes, seeing as though he was looking right at me. I slid off my stool, and moved to the one next to him. He didn't seem to mind. He turned to me said,

"Gordon." With a nod. As he turned I saw a knife sheath on his belt, supposedly hidden by his jacket. I wondered if he had much else weaponry on his person.

"Ida." I replied, being so used to using my fake name. We turned back to the bar top and drank our drinks for a minute.

"You a cop?" Gordon suddenly said. I smiled, touching my gun at my side, also supposedly hidden by my leather jacket.

"No, not a cop... But I could ask the same to you." I said, nodding at his side where his sheath was.

"Touche." He nodded. At this point, I figured he was a hunter. And I don't mean the deer shooting kind. To be so chill about carrying weapons like that, he had to be. And I thought he thought me to be one too, though I wasn't.

"So Gordon... You hunt much?"

"Indeed I do." He grinned to himself creepily.

"I'm on a hunt now actually." He took a gulp of his beer, finishing the bottle. He coughed lightly before saying mystically,

"On a hunt for vampires..." He trailed off, and motioned for another beer. He looked back at me, probably expecting a 'you're crazy' look. But I just took another sip of my drink.

"I take it you work alone?" Gordon seemed only slightly surprised how normal I took vampires as.

"I normally do, yes."

"Think you'd want a hand?"

* * *

"Gordon- no!" I whispered. Gordon and I were debating whether to go in the vamp nest head on, machetes blazing, or take it slow and subtle.

"You'll get yourself killed!"

"You think I give a damn, Ida?" Gordon said, itching to get in there. It was our first vampire hunt together, after about a week of investigating and planning, and I knew Gordon well enough to know if he didn't calm himself down, he'd get us both into trouble.

"You're my ride tonight, so _I_ give a damn." I said, Gordon laughed, trying not to be too loud seeing as though we were pretty close to the nest.

"Sorry sweetheart, but it's so much quicker this way." Gordon leapt up from our hiding spot in the woods and jogged down the hill to the old farmhouse that was the nest. I groaned, I had to go after him or he'd literally get eaten alive. I sprang up and ran to his side, my own machete in hand. They could probably smell us from this close, so if we were going to do it Gordon's way, we had to be quick. Up on the porch, Gordon kicked the front door down dramatically. Inside were five vamps, all ready to pounce with their teeth bared. Gordon, being in front sliced a male vamp's head clean off, and didn't take a second before swinging again at another one about to latch onto him. I yelled as I swung my machete through the neck of a blonde vampire chick. I felt the hollowness of her throat on the handle of the machete and it felt good. It felt good to take out my anger instead of stowing it away at the bottom of a bottle. This is what I liked doing. This was the beginning of my next life. My life after Anthony. I knew it.

"Gordon!" I yelled, as an old dude vamp jumped him from behind from the stairs. I took down the last two vamps in the room, but then more came down the stairs. The old dude vamp had Gordon in a hold, gripping his neck, his teeth inches away from biting him. Gordon dropped his now bloody machete and I stood poised, but the four vampires from upstairs walked into position, blocking the exits and surrounding me. I sighed and dropped my own machete on the floral rug. A handsome looking vamp beside me stepped forward and picked it up, before patting me down and taking the two syringes I had of dead man's blood tucked in my jacket. He dropped them to the floor and crushed the glass beneath his boot. I then let him take me upstairs, following behind Gordon. Upstairs we were brought into a well furnished room, with bookcases and a desk. A vamp brought two chairs to the middle of the room and Gordon and I were forced to sit.

"What did I tell you?" I said to Gordon beside me, who laughed.

"Yeah, okay-"

"Silence!" A vamp shouted. I guessed he was the head vampire. He wore a black suit, and had his blonde hair slicked to the side like a douche.

"You must be Gordon Walker..." He said, stepping closer to Gordon in his chair. We weren't tied, but were trusted to stay seated and not blaze out.

"Mmm, the one and only." Gordon said, his teeth gritted. The head vamp walked closer to his chair and rested his hands on the arms, leaning his face close to Gordon's. I half expected Gordon to rip his face off.

"So who's this then? I've never heard of you working with a partner..." He said, his head turning to face me. Gordon faced forward, not looking at me. I didn't know how to reply, so I ended up saying,

"He doesn't. So I guess I'm super special." I grinned sarcastically. The head vamp walked away from Gordon and came over to me. He did the same as before, leaned forward into my face.

"Hey, buy me a drink first, buttercup." I said, leaning as far into the chair as I could. His breath smelled of rusted metal and death, and it was pretty revolting.

"My name's Jonathan... Dandelion..." I snickered at his attempt to talk back. He stood back from my chair and crossed his arms. His other vamps stood around the room in some kind of formation, they would all pounce if we made a move.

"Well... Who are you?" He asked me. I crossed my legs on the chair casually and sighed deeply.

"What's it to you, Mr. Jonathan sir?"

"I like to know that names of my victims before I drink their blood." He grinned, bearing his sharp and jagged vampire teeth.

"Guess I'll leave ya wondering." I said. Gordon was still facing forward. I couldn't tell if he cared about my situation as well as his, I certainly can't say I was concerned for him. The head vamp waltzed around the room, leaving us thinking about what he was going to do with us. His options were to kill us, or turn us into vampires ourselves. He would probably kill Gordon. He was renowned for killing vampires for years all over the country. For me however, there was no telling what he wanted.

"Amanda..." He cooed, and a redheaded vamp appeared beside him and hung off his shoulder. I guessed they were mates. Vampires mate for life, and seeing as though vampires are practically immortal, that's a damn long time. Jonathan played with her hair and planted kisses on her neck and shoulders, ignoring Gordon and I for the time being.

"Get a room." I shouted, and the two vampires whipped their heads towards me. Jonathan made his command,

"Give our mystery friend here a bite..." Amanda grinned at me. I'm not going to lie, I was scared. I had been since we drove up to the farm land. Amanda stepped towards me, her black heels clicking on the already scuffed wooden flooring. She leaned into my face, her sharp teeth slowly inching closer to my flesh.

"NO!" I heard Gordon shout, his first inclination that he cared, at least a little. I squeezed my eyes shut, not knowing what else to do. If I fought back, I'd get jumped by like five super human strengthed vampires. I clung to the chair and prayed as hard as I could. When the pain didn't come, I opened my eyes and realised what I had done. I heard no sound, and everything was blurry like I had looked through someone else's glasses. Everyone in the room were trapped in the position they were seconds ago, Gordon and vampire alike. I had stopped time. I had had something like this happen about a year ago, when Anthony and I were nearly in a car accident. I thought it was a trick my eyes deceived, a fluke, but apparently I can stop time. I took the situation to my advantage, not knowing how much of my own time I had before things went back to normal again. I didn't know what I could do when everything had stopped like this. But I slid out from under Amanda and fetched my own and Gordon's machete from the two vamps holding them. I wondered if I could kill in this state, and went to slice Jonathan's head off from behind him, when everything went back to normal. My hearing returned and everything became clearer. A raging headache grew in my head and I gripped the sides of my head, the handles of the blades pushing against my skull. Amanda fell onto the chair I had been in and everyone looked around, confused. Through the pain in my head, I swung the machete in my right, detaching the head vampire's head from his shoulders. Confusion and disorientation prevented the other vamps to react, and I managed to bring down another two, one's headless body crashing into a bookcase, sending books flying, before throwing Gordon a machete for himself and we each took down the last two with little effort. When all the vampires were headless, I dropped my blade before dropping myself and passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke tied to a chair, I could tell. When I mustered the energy to lift my head, I let out a groan because of how much pounding was going on up there.

"Got an Aspirin, maybe?" I croaked into the open. My vision was still blurry, but as my eyes focused, in front of me stood the feet of Gordon. We were still in the upstairs room, the floor littered with bodies and decapitated heads. There was just an overwhelming smell of blood.

"I don't know what you are, but you're going to tell me a little about yourself..." I heard Gordon's voice say. I looked up and squinted, the light of sunset was almost blinding through the windows of the old farm house.

"Bite me."

"No no no no no! You- you're one of them, aren't you?" I shook my head, though it hurt like hell.

"What're you talking about, Gordon? You crazy son of a bitch..." He suddenly hit me across the face, I was shocked and my face now stung. It didn't exactly help the headache.

"Hey! That's my momma you're talkin' about." He muttered, then started pacing in front of me.

"Nah, you're one of them. One of those psychic, impure humans, who's gonna fight for hell's side-"

"What're you on?"

"I'm not on anything. But you, sweetheart, you have to die." He raised a handgun to my face and I breathed in shakily, leaning back into the chair.

"You don't know what you're doing- stop!" I yelled, my fear of Gordon greater than what it was when I was under a vampire. I thought I could do it again, stop time. I shut my eyes and thought really hard about it. I had no idea how it worked, but it was something in my head. So I thought and I thought, and when I opened my eyes all sound was blocked out and the blurriness that was Gordon's gun was still inches from my forehead. I acted quickly, raising my legs and kicking Gordon in the crotch, his body lurched backwards, but stayed standing, his facial expression never changing. Him being away from me was all I needed. Using my teeth, I reached below my shoulder and pulled out my little knife from my bra strap. What? If normal girls keep their phones there... I gave a triumphant 'yes!' through the blade of the knife held between my teeth, but not a sound escaped. I leaned forward and dropped the knife into my right hand that was tied down by rope. I flicked my wrist and bent my hand to start cutting away at the rope. It worked quickly, the rope coming away easily. I untied my other wrist and I was free. I didn't know how much of my time I had left, but assumed not much. I pushed Gordon to the floor on top on the corpses of a vamp and took his gun. Then debating whether or not to kill him, I ended up pushing a bookcase on him. I ran down the stairs and managed to get out the door when everything became normal again. I was close to passing out again, the feeling stronger than the first time, but I pushed on through the grass and up the bank into the woods as it turned to night.

* * *

After finding myself waking up under a sign for Percy Pig's Bacon Pizza, I stumbled to the road and found Gordon's car. I stole it. Then ditched it when I got back to the Mustang on a backroad outside the town we had pitched. I took the courtesy from Gordon of taking some weapons for myself from its interior laced with weaponry and warding devices, it wasn't like he was going to tell me off anymore- I was going to make sure I never saw him again. I drove all night, just following the road that took me away from the state, the only thing keeping me awake being Aerosmith's greatest hits.

* * *

The next state over was Indiana. I would have stopped at Monroeville, but I just kept driving. I didn't stop once in over 7 hours, until the Mustang was completely empty. I had to pull into a gas station in some town at 6 o'clock in the morning, and bought a coffee. Parked off the main road, I wanted to rest. I still felt sick from what had happened back at the nest. From the physical toll it had taken on my body, and the mental toll. I could literally stop time, and I was in no way okay with that. Besides the fact Gordon tried to kill me because I was a monster, how was I supposed to live with this? I already had a crappy life. I felt like a monster. I felt like one of the things I desire to hunt. A freak. A freak with a freaky ability. Sitting in the Mustang, with the leather chair reclined, the coffee cup in my hand shook. The coffee was way too creamy, and I swear they put cinnamon or something in it. I couldn't stop my hands shaking, and so put the cup down beside me before I spilt the hot beverage on my lap. I held my hands up to my face, and watched them shake. My nerves and anxiety were getting the best of me, not to mention that it was a freezing cold morning. Across the road the neon sign for a motel suddenly glowed in the mostly dark light of the early morning. It was actually a pretty nice sign, with a large blue rose above the sign for vacancy. I supposed I could check in there, have a warm room to hang out in. Recollect myself and figure out what to do next. I started up the car, and swung her around to get into the parking lot. Shrugging my now rather tattered leather jacket closer to my cold body, I walked into the office and up the the front desk. A middle aged man wearing an Indians baseball cap said good morning with a long, tired sigh.

"Yeah, I just want a room." I grumbled, my words coming out harsh with my sleepy bitterness. The guy didn't seem to care though, and went to getting a key.

"Rough night, huh?"

"You could say that." I said, really not in the mood for small talk. I didn't say anything else to him for the minute or two spent going about renting the room, using a new fake name from the top of my head, until I uttered a pitiful thanks after retrieving the key and going back to the Mustang to get my bag.

"Have a good day, Soph." I heard from behind me.

* * *

The room was nice, number 15. Blue roses were obviously the theme. Most things in the room were blue, the walls and door included. The divider in the room was decorated with glass blue roses, identical to the shape of the neon sign. Once in the room, though, I dropped my bag on the floor, and collapsed on the bed, exhaustion consuming me.

* * *

_"What are you doing, kiddo? Get up!" I hear Anthony yell at me. I'm lying on my front, and I roll over to look up and see the pale blue ceiling of my motel room. Stting up, I look around some more and see that I am in the motel room, but it's different, it's nicer, and looks new. What catches my eye is a silver shape on the table._

_"Well pick it up then! I know you want to!" Anthony's voice yells again, sounding crazed. I get off the bed, the mattress softer than I remember from when I landed on it and go towards the silver shape, and see that it's a gun. Specifically, Dean's gun, the gun I used to kill Anthony with. I recognise the pattern on the outside of the barrel._

_"What is this?" I ask into the open, disorientated by the weirdness. I figure I'm having some sort of weird vision. A figure dressed all in black approaches from behind me and my first instinct is to pick up the gun._

_"Hey, no need to be violent, Jamia. I'm only here for a chat." The figure is Anthony, but he's not my Anthony. His hair is groomed, something Anthony would never bother with, and he just doesn't seem like him. Most importantly though, his eyes. The dark eyes we shared aren't shown on his face, they're yellow and evil. Demonic._

_"Oh? And what would you like to talk about?" I say through gritted teeth, realising I'm in a dream- but not forgetting this is also real._

_"Well I just wanted to know why you haven't been using your power. I mean, it's a great power. You could really do a lot with it."_

_"I don't want it."_

_"Hmm, well that's weird. Not many people get abilities like this, you know. A select few, actually." The demon says, starting to pace around me._

_"So I'm not the only one?"_

_"Well, I wouldn't say that, but yes. There are others who have magic powers." The demon says, waving it's hands mystically._

_"But you are special, Jamia. More so than the rest. Believe it or not, but you are top of the list."_

_"What list?" I ask, the demon making me dizzy with it walking in a constant circle._

_"Oh, just a list." It says, pouting it's lips. Fed up, I lift Dean's gun to the demon's head._

_"Tell me who you are, and what the hell this is all about."_

_"Woah deja vu much?" It says, crossing it's yellow eyes trying to look down the barrel. I shuffle a little, knowing that stood in front of me is not my cousin._

_"Just tell me, or I'll exorcise your ass." The demon laughs and dramatically wipes a tear from the corner of its ugly eye. When it looks back to me, still with the gun pointed at its head, it cracks up even more. When it's finally done, it says,_

_"Oh that is too funny! You're in a dream, honey! Besides, you haven't exorcised a demon in your life!" I roll my eyes, like I'd let that get in my way._

_"Just use your ability, you'll grow stronger, and soon enough, you'll be ready."_

_"Ready? Ready for what?" The demon doesn't answer me. It gives a wave of it's fingers and vanishes before me._

"Ready for what?!" I repeatedly yell, hearing my own voice grow quieter, like the muffled chatter of a far away crowd.

* * *

"Ready for what?!" I found myself yelling, having just stepped out of the dream. I was back in bed and found myself drenched in sweat. The room was dim from the drawn curtains as I looked to the table. No demon. My breathing wasn't controlled, and I layed on the bed, trying to catch my breath. One part of me was telling myself that it was just a dream of my own imagination, that I was going a little crazy from exhaustion and whatnot. But another part of me was saying that I was apart of something big now. Something that involves demonic powers. Great. I sat back up, letting out a disgruntled sigh. The bedside alarm clock said it was 2:44. Most likely in the afternoon, judging by the light barely coming through the curtains. But I could have been sleeping for days. I got dressed anyway out of the muddy and overall dirty clothes I had been wearing for the last 5 days and slipped into my usual jeans and today, an Alice In Chains tank top. I hadn't worn makeup since Rivergrove, and didn't particularly want to start now, but it was a self conscious must after the copious amount of beating up I had gone through. Besides, it spelled normality for me, which is what I had been craving the last few weeks, if not the last 10 years of my life.

"Come on, Jamia." I said to myself in the mirror. The girl infront of me looked someone so distant. Under her eyes were purple smudges that aged her beyond her years. Her once jet black hair, fading back to its natural and boring brown. It had only been a few weeks since I became alone in the world, and yet it could have been years. Now the increase in stress was making things worse. I caked and plastered my face in the attempt to cover up bruises and dark under eyes, and swiped on eyeliner just for the hell of it. After grabbing a mini Jack Daniels from the mini bar, I left the motel room and was about to walk down the street, but the row of vending machines in the near empty parking lot caught my eye. Next to the motel office, the three vending machines were stocked with junk food I could live off for an age. I went over there, feeling the struggle now. With Anthony we always had just enough of everything, but just walking over to the office, I found my usual black converse to be wearing down on the soles. My jacket, starting to crumble from the sweat off my body and exposure. Not to mention my stomach, that was practically roaring for food. At least I had my whiskey that would probably cost me $80 that I totally wouldn't pay, and soon enough, Doritos and Twizzlers. Standing in front of a machine, the white light inside making the contents of it more appetizing than in a commercial, I fished into every pocket of my jeans and jacket for a few coins, maybe even a dollar bill. In a pocket in my jacket, I found 3 quarters and that was it. I looked on the ground to see if there were any dropped coins, but there was nothing. I could just smash the glass... But I'm not that hungry. I put in the three coins and pressed the combination of buttons for a small packet of M&Ms. I watched the coil turn to release the bag, but it didn't happen. The brown packet got caught by the corner at the end of the coil where it stayed. I banged the machine with my fist to maybe shake it free, but it was stuck. Accepting of this fate, I downed the tiny bottle of whiskey in my hand. It was warm, but it burned going down before soothing my insides, making me feel all warm and fuzzy. I leaned against the glass of the machine, trying to relax. I thought about going to a bar and dull the stress of anxiety and starvation, but I had no money and was tired of getting drunk. It never turns out how I hope. It's always the same. I banged my fist on the machine, but still nothing dropped. I pushed myself from the machine and trudged back to my room across the parking lot. Just as I slid the glass door shut, I heard a loud glass explosion. My first instinct was to duck, so I did and crawled to the bed to grab the nearest gun, the one I had left under the pillow. I heard another glass explosion as I reached for the 9C1 and checked that it was loaded and ready to shoot. The glass windows and doors of my room weren't smashed, so it had to have been next door or somewhere close. I slid my door open and ducked behind the white wall in front, holding the black handgun tight in front of me. I didn't hear anymore explosions and I looked next door to see glass scattered over the path in front. Not exactly worried about my own safety, I scurried next door and stepped over the smashed glass of the sliding door, some of it crunching under my worn down shoe. I looked around the room to see if there was anyone who needed help, or anyone dead. I looked to the table identical to the one in my own room and only just had time to react to a punch thrown at my face and ducked to the side, where I raised my gun to my attacker.

"Sam?" I said after a few seconds, frowning at the tall, long haired guy who still had a cast on his arm. He lowered his fist and frowned at me as well with a tilted head,

"Jamia?" It was weird hearing my real name as I dropped my gun to my side and stepped towards Sam over broken glass. I smiled for the first time in quite a while, as he did too.

"Um, so you know Lara Croft... Every second I'm with you something ridiculous has to happen, doesn't it?" A woman's voice said and Sam and I turned to a woman our age with shoulder length brown hair and wide eyes that made her look pretty freaked out. Sam stepped towards her, and put a hand on her shoulder. I just stood there with my gun hanging at my side, glancing to the door where the two had been shot at, while Sam whispered to the woman. Directly in front of the door was a building on the other side of the parking lot, high enough for someone to shoot a sniper rifle from.

"Okay, Ava, this is Jamia. She's a friend. Jamia, this is Ava. We- uh, we're working together on something." I gave a short wave to Ava from my spot and she grinned nervously, eying my gun.

"Sam, up on that-"

"What are you doing here? And with a gun?" Sam interrupted. I mouthed words that didn't make sense, trying to find the right ones to say.

"Well I could ask you what you're doing here too and why you just got freaking shot at?" I finally sputtered out, sounding a little frantic. Sam nodded his head, thinking how to answer as well, but decided to leave it. We both had secrets to hide. After our experience together in Oregon and finding out he wasn't a federal marshal, he really could be just like me. Not belonging anywhere and afraid to be himself.

"Well there's a building opposite that I think your shooter was up on. They're probably gone now, we should have a look. Maybe give us clues as to who they are, if you don't have any ideas already." I said, making my way back into the parking lot.

"We?" I head Ava say behind me. I turned around, crunching more glass.

"What?" I said,

"I'm adventurous." I walked away from the motel room and started to figure out how to get up on the roof of the building. I heard Ava ask Sam if I was a cop and him say he had no idea. I grinned to myself as I tucked my gun in my jacket as I approached the road, not wanting anyone to see it. Sam and Ava caught up to me and we rounded a corner into the alley where there were stairs up onto the roof. I raised my eyebrows to Sam as I skipped a couple of steps to the railing of the stairs.

"Me first." Sam said, and I let him pass me before I let Ava climb up before me as well.

"Wait, I don't understand. Shouldn't we be talking to the cops?" Ava said as we all gathered on the roof, Sam looking for clues on the practically empty space. A rusty oil drum and a few bits of random crap were all that were up there.

"Trust me, they wouldn't do us much good." I told her as Sam bent down and picked up a shell near the edge. He looked back at me as I spoke, I just shrugged. Sam knew I wasn't the same as I was when we met a few weeks ago, and I knew he wasn't who he made himself out to be. So we were even in our hiding.

"These are .223 caliber. Subsonic rounds, the guy must have put a suppressor on the rifle..." Sam said. Ava looked shocked.

"Dude, who are you?" She questioned, I was shocked myself. Then again, an open mind had to be set for Sam. He could be anyone.

"Oh. I just, uh, I just watch a lot of TJ Hooker. " He said, standing back up. He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cellphone.

"Dean?" I questioned as he punched in the speed dial.

"Dean?" Ava repeated, looked from me to Sam who was pacing away from us.

"My brother. I think we definitely need help." He said, as he put the phone to his ear. Ava and I stayed silent while Sam talked to his brother.

"Dean!... Yeah. Look, I'm in Indiana, uh Lafayette..." Nice to know where I am.

"You do?... Yeah, I'm sorry. Look, right now there's someone after me... I don't know, that's what we need to find out. Where are you?... Yeah. Sure." Sam hung up the phone and turned back to Ava and I. He looked worried. More worried than before when he had just been shot at.

"What is it?" I ask, now concerned for both brothers.

"He's in trouble." Sam said, putting his phone away and swapping it for a pen and notepad that I recognized as the stationary from the motel.

"He gave me a codeword. Someone's got a gun on him." He said as he jotted an adress on the pad.

"Codeword?" Ava asked, getting more worried every second, just as it appeared Sam was.

"Yeah. Funkytown." Sam said while Ava and I exchanged glances round the three of us.

"Well, he thought of it. It's kind of a... Long story, I, come on." He said and he went to follow Ava and I down the stairs.


End file.
